


All Fire and Spark

by aeternamente



Category: I Didn't Write This, Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Sparklers, Walking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeternamente/pseuds/aeternamente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d never really liked sparklers. It didn’t seem possible that someone could hold fire that close and not get burned by those little shooting sparks flying in every direction. But it was different now, he realized, because he was so used to having her around, all fire and spark in a way that put those tiny sparkly sticks to shame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Fire and Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Didn't Write This - Ep. 1: Ode by Arthur O'Shaughnessy](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/35195) by Yulin Kuang. 



> I've been wanting a final Lydia video since her series ended as unsatisfactorily as it did. From now on, my head canon is that the first episode of Yulin Kuang's "I Didn't Write This" series ("Ode by Arthur O'Shaughnessy") is that video. Accordingly, I have written this fic. Unabashed wish fulfillment ahead!

He met her through mutual friends at school, and she’d captivated him from the beginning. A smile as bright as her hair and a personality to match. She could fill a room with her laughter and turn a party into a whirlwind, so it seemed to him.

But he never asked her out. At first it was because he couldn’t get up the courage (even though the prospect of seeing her drew him to more parties than his reticent nature usually allowed for), but later, when through some sort of social osmosis, he became aware of what had happened to her in the past, he decided it was better not to broach the subject.

Instead, when chance threw their paths together on campus, he invited her to walk with him. And so they walked. She chattered, he listened, and they walked. It happened a few times by chance, but soon became habitual. They knew the whole campus by heart, having walked it over so many times. They knew each other’s pace and stride and favorite haunts.

"You know, you’re probably the dorkiest friend I have," she said once. "No, actually, that’s probably my sister. I’d set you up with her, but she has a super serious millionaire boyfriend now who’s even dorkier than she is."

He tried not to mind too much that she thought of him as someone she could “set up with” her sister. He tried not to be too relieved that said sister was not single. He tried, but he couldn’t quite manage not to read too much into the way she sometimes regarded him through sly, narrow eyes, just a moment longer than necessary.

They went into the marina one evening, to “walk somewhere different for a change,” she said. As dusk settled on the beach, she produced a lighter and a box of sparklers from her pockets with a grin that was half five-year-old, half maniac.

He’d never really liked sparklers. It didn’t seem possible that someone could hold fire that close and not get burned by those little shooting sparks flying in every direction. But it was different now, he realized, because he was so used to having her around, all fire and spark in a way that put those tiny sparkly sticks to shame.

So they waved their sparklers and he watched as her hair glowed in sympathetic vibrations to the fire. Once, she stopped mid-twirl and caught him staring, his nearly-spent sparkler motionless in his hand. It might have been a trick of the dim light, but he thought she smiled as she turned away to light another for him.

They walked, but something felt different in the walking, and not just the new place, the sand and wooden beams underfoot rather than grass and concrete. Did she clasp his hand more often than usual? Were her eyes more often drawn to his? He didn’t trust himself to know…

Until she pulled both his arms so he was facing her and asked in her blunt way, “So what—are we dating now?”

For a moment, he struggled with what to say. He had decided not to ask her out—to leave it to her. And upon consideration, that still seemed the best course of action. “Do you want to be?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes and studied him for what seemed a small eternity, then quite suddenly caught his face in her hands and pulled him down into a kiss.


End file.
